


Sound the Retreat

by i_caught_fire



Category: clexa - Fandom
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-18
Updated: 2015-03-19
Packaged: 2018-03-18 10:47:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3566822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_caught_fire/pseuds/i_caught_fire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What makes loneliness an anguish is not that I have no one to share my burden, but this: I have only my own burden to bear.”<br/>-	Dag Hammarskjold</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

Light seeped between the confines of the leaves to dance upon the soiled earth. The wind puppeteer the only thing distracting Clarke from looking back at the sanctuary she fought so hard to build for her people. They were alive, but the safety those walls provided was no sanctuary to her now. As the shapes of the light show continued to sway and change, Clarke recalled a story her father had read to her from a book he said was once held sacred on earth. A city destroyed by a god and a women who turned to salt, or was it stone, when she looked back at the ruin that was once her home. Clarke never found more truth in that story then she did now. She wasn’t sure she could look back at all those she loved, all those she had saved, without falling apart. She had done everything she could for her people and she felt she had lost all that she was in the process. The humming of the forest brought a momentary peace. The life here whispered to Clarke, but demanded nothing of her. 

And so the decision was made. Clarke needed to be on her own. She needed to heal, to come to terms with the person she has become. “Maybe there are no good guys.” Her mother’s words echoed in the back of her mind. With everything that had happened on the Ark, it was foolish to think anything could have been different here on the ground. But she so badly wanted to believe in more than just surviving. Maybe now with the threat of the Mountain Men gone, her people stood a chance of living real lives full of peace and hope. Clarke wanted to believe that was in her future too, but just the thought of Mt. Weather brought flashes of the radiated burned flesh of the children she had sentenced to death. They too just wanted hope. Why did she deserve her happy ending and not them? 

Clarke physically shook her head with the desperate need to rid these thoughts from her mind. If only it were that easy. Where does one go when comfort is no longer found in the people who were once your home? 

A name started to bubble to the surface of Clarke’s thoughts, but she stubbornly refrained to taste that name upon her lips. How different would the outcome had been if she never had to feel the sting of betrayal? Maybe the innocent lives she took could have been saved. Or maybe there wasn’t really anything that could have been done to save them. Maybe it was a deal she would have made to ensure the safety of her people. But Clarke wasn’t ready to succumb to forgiveness yet, just as she had no more energy to be angry. All she felt was hurt…and now alone. 

One deep breath was all she could muster. Clarke closed her eyes and breathed in the sweet air she never thought she would experience when she was a prisoner on the Ark. She lifted her leg a step forward and then another. The weight she felt slowly lightened with each step she took. She was no longer anchored and it was a relief for Clarke to know the steps she took now were not leading anyone anywhere. She was on her own. It was time to see if she could rely on herself as much as everyone else did.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Anything that you cannot sacrifice pins you. Makes you predictable, makes you weak.”  
> ― Mark Lawrence, Prince of Thorns

Over a week had passed since the sounding of the retreat horns. And yet Lexa could not bring herself to remove her armor. The weight of her outfit, she knew, would be more bearable then the burden she would feel once she allowed herself to be completely vulnerable. Of course, her armor could not protect her from the type of wounds she inflicted upon herself, but it was a nice illusion she needed to hold on to for a little while longer. 

Her people were home and safe. A choice that should have seemed the easiest to make, which, in fact, came at a heavy price. She knew her people were grateful, but she also knew betraying the Sky people left a sour taste in their mouths. Although none of the Tree people would ever admit this in their Commander’s presence. As resistant as it was at first, a true bond had developed between the two very different tribes. A true bond had developed between her and Clarke. 

Lexa cringed as if just the thought of her name pained her. After Costia’s death, Lexa never thought she would be able to speak her name aloud. But she did, with Clarke. And now she wonders if it is Clarke’s name that will always bring a paralysis to her tongue. 

Lexa shifted in her sit and focused on the roughened feel of her armor against her skin. She tried to imagine that this tough exterior was just an extension of her being and nothing could penetrate her. She made her choice and she knew she would have chosen the same if the situation repeated itself. The Mountain Men had her people. The freed prisoners weren’t the strong army they were hoping for on the inside. They were weak and dying. The choice was clear. Continue to attack and her people would be killed on the spot. Retreat and leave with all her people still alive. Retreat and leave the 44 Ark prisoners to die. The choice should have been simple enough if it weren’t for the feelings Lexa allowed herself to feel for Clarke. She knew better than to let herself care for her, but just as Lexa saw herself changing Clarke into the leader she needed to be, the Sky leader was also changing Lexa. 

The Commander could not just return home and celebrate. She had left Clarke behind, and had she not become one of her people? No not one of her people, her equal…and perhaps more. Lexa’s fingers grazed her lips as she remembered the softness of Clarke’s lips. At first, everything about Clarke seemed soft, weak. But time and again, Clarke’s strength would surprise Lexa. After returning home from war, Lexa sent scouts out to discover the fate of the Sky people, and, of course, the fate of their leader. And again surprised by Clarke’s strength, she learned that all of the Mountain Men were dead and the Sky people had survived. 

Lexa could not help, but fear that Clarke would blame her for the innocent causalities taken to win the war. She knew Clarke felt everything so strongly and that recovering from the choice she made would be difficult. Would she see herself as a monster, a monster Lexa created? A selfish part of her hoped this would help Clarke understand the position Lexa was in. As a leader, we cannot save everyone and we cannot always do what seems right. Our people come first, and no matter what we must choose their survival. 

Clarke had abandoned her responsibilities as leader and was living in the forest. She had made it about 80 miles outside the Sky people’s camp. Lexa clinched the knife she was mindlessly fiddling with. She envied Clarke. No matter what, she could never leave her people. She was born to do this, and what else would she be if not the Commander? 

Lexa hopelessly believed that Clarke might seek her out; that through this painful understanding, they were the only ones who could bring each other relief. But Clarke never reached out for Lexa. There was never a hint she would head for her tribe. Lexa commanded that someone would always stay watch over Clarke in the woods and that no harm would come her way. It was a comfort to know where she was at all times and that she was safe. 

Love is weakness. It was an argument she had more than once with Clarke. But Lexa knew she was right, because she never felt weaker than when she longed for Clarke’s presence. As annoying as the Sky leader could be with her constant worrying and defiance, Clarke had awakening something inside Lexa that she thought was long dead. She had awakened a desire for more. The Commander knew she needed to decide once and for all if she was going to try and just erase Clarke from her mind, her heart. She was numb once before, could she not get to that point again? 

Lexa sighed and threw her knife across the room in defeat. She knew what her answer was. Soon she would have to remove her armor and face Clarke and the damage she had caused. She would have to feel.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “The sorrow for the dead is the only sorrow from which we refuse to be divorced. Every other wound we seek to heal – every other affliction to forget: but this wound we consider it a duty to keep open – this affliction we cherish and brood over in solitude.”  
> \- Washington Irving

Silence in itself can become a companion to a wandering soul. Clarke hadn’t spoken a word since she left Camp Jaha. There was no need to. Her days were filled with walking and exploring all she could take in. The wildlife always heard her approaching steps and would rather scatter than stay to chat. Despite the many months spent on the ground, Clarke still hadn’t developed much of a skill at hunting. This didn’t bother her too much. She had gained enough knowledge of the native plants to gather nuts and berries for herself. Water was at a readily supply at the river that ran 5 miles parallel to the route she traveled. She walked and slept in the open, but no harm ever came her way. It seemed surreal, but the solitude of her days offered her only serenity. The nights, on the other hand, were a different story.

Nightfall had arrived and Clarke sat staring at the fire she made. It wasn’t particularly cold out, but she held her hands close to the flames, challenging the point where the warmth threatened to burn her. Every night was a battle. She couldn’t turn her mind off. Night after night, her thoughts tortured her until she felt numb enough to sleep. She thought of everyone. She could see the faces of the ones she loves, the ones she had lost, and, worst of all, the ones whose blood were stained upon her hands. She spent her nights gazing into the fire hoping it could illuminate within herself the answers she had failed to find. Who was she becoming? And more importantly, could she live with who that person may be? She wasn’t sure she could ever completely be at peace with the decisions she had made. 

An image she had repeatedly beaten down began to give form in Clarke’s mind. It appeared too quickly and too strong for her to extinguish this time. Like the phoenix rising from the ashes, she never could completely smother the rising wings of this dark angel. Branded in Clarke’s mind was the silhouette of this dangerous creature walking away from her, the one whom she had naively come to trust. But it was no longer a silhouette Clarke was seeing, but black war paint -- a drawn on mask that never could hide the softness of its wearer’s eyes. “May we meet again,” were the last words spoken, as those sorrowful eyes became reflective pools of green. No, not green, emerald. 

Suddenly, Clarke felt a scorching pain in her left hand. She became so lost in those emerald pools that she allowed her hand to falter too close to the flames. She placed her hand against the cooled ground to soothe the throbbing edges of her palm. She was thankful for the pain. It gave her something else to focus her attention on. 

 

\---------

Lexa hid in the shadows of the trees, as she looked upon Clarke who was no more than 20 feet in front of her. Since the moment she decided she had to see Clarke, three weeks has passed. Her courage had repeatedly failed her and she felt ashamed that it took her this long to set her eyes upon those golden locks. 

The fire highlighted the contours of Clarke’s face and Lexa couldn’t help, but study every line and curve. Physically, she looked just as beautiful as ever. You would think the war left no mark on her until you saw her eyes. Lexa knew all too well what went on behind those eyes that were fixed on the flames like two hollow points. Lexa had to look away. It pained her to see the internal struggle that could crumble the strength of the Sky leader. 

When she looked back, Clarke was intently tracing her finger along the dirt. Every time Lexa opened her mouth, the air required for speaking would escape her. It felt like someone had stomped on her chest and refused to release her from the weighted pressure. So she did the second best thing she could think of. She stepped on a nearby twig, hoping the noise was enough to break the blonde’s concentration.

And it was. Clarke jumped up startled. Instinct took over and the gun that was in the small of her back was suddenly in her hand at her side. She would have been more prepared for an aggressive gorilla than what, no who, actually stood before her. 

The silhouette that she could never forget was now walking towards her out of the shadows.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Every parting gives a foretaste of death, every reunion a hint of the resurrection.”  
> \- Arthur Schopenhaur

Lexa stopped 5 feet in front of Clarke. She felt like the whole world was spinning. Clarke never took her eyes off of her and Lexa held her gaze for what seemed like a lifetime. She took a deep breath and spoke out loud the name that previously would have left her tongue-tied. 

“Clarke.” The Commander’s voice was gentle, but assured.

Clarke had to fight the urge to shake her head. Was she dreaming, or worse, had her grief caused her to see hallucinations again? 

“Lexa?” Clarke had been silent for too long. Her voice came out soft and scratchy.

Lexa observed the way the blonde scrunched her forehead as her voice held a tone of disbelief. After the initial shock of her presence, Clarke’s composure started to change. Lexa transferred her eyes to Clarke’s hand, which held the gun; it was shaking. 

Clarke had to mentally tell herself to snap out of it. She tightened her grip on her gun and quickly found her anger. “What are you doing here? _How_ did you know I was here?

Lexa shifted her weight, as she debated taking a step closer to Clarke. She stayed put and responded matter-of-factly. “I make it a point to know everything that goes on in my lands.” 

“Then you,” Clarke lazily waved her gun towards Lexa’s direction, “know about what happened at Mt. Weather. You know what I did.” 

Lexa slowly nods. She knew Clarke wasn’t trying to threaten her. “You know, Clarke, my people do not leave their weapon drawn unless they mean to use it.” 

Clarke blinks and then looks at the gun in her hand. It doesn’t take her long to decide to put it away. She balls her hands into fists and looks back at Lexa’s face. Her skin was smooth and clean. The Commander was no longer dressed for war. She had minimal armor on. For a change her arms were bare, revealing the tattoo that wraps around her toned bicep. Clarke wanted to hold on to her anger, but she couldn’t help but absorb the way Lexa looked right now. 

Lexa wasn’t sure how to take the silence that grew between the two leaders. She had so much to say, but, at the same time, she knew there was nothing she could say.

“I do not judge the decision you made. It took true strength.” Lexa noticed Clarke flinch at her words. “Clarke, it was the only choice you could make, in order to save your people.”

Clarke took a step forward and lashed her words out, hoping they would hit their target. “It wasn’t supposed to be my **only** choice!” 

Lexa held her ground, as she felt the full damage of the Sky leader’s angered words. There it was; Clarke blamed her. She didn’t even try to hide the pain this caused her. 

“What was I supposed to do, Clarke?” 

“Stay and fight!” Clarke responded with such conviction. 

“If I had done that, all my people held prisoner in that mountain would have been killed, along with how many more of my warriors fighting to get pass that wall. They had their guns pointed at _my people_ , which means they had a gun pointed at my head!” Lexa tried to stay in control of her emotions, but she started to find herself angry with Clarke for not understanding sooner the choice she had to make. 

“Clarke, you have to know I was ready to fight alongside you. To die beside you would have been a great honor. I never had planned on leaving you, but as I had said before, plans don’t last long in battle.” 

Clarke opened her mouth and then closed it again. As fierce as Lexa was to every one else, she rarely raised her voice to Clarke. Yes, she was critical towards her, but she always spoke calmly and controlled. Clarke thought back to the moment she called Lexa a liar, how much the truth of Clarke’s words had angered and possibly hurt her. She remembered it was then that Lexa admitted to caring for Clarke. Looking at that familiar angered and hurt face, she knew she couldn’t blame Lexa for choosing to save her people. The Commander was right; Clarke would have done the same. And when Clarke pulled that lever, it was her choice and hers alone. Lexa had nothing to do with that.

“You’re right,” Clarke said. “I’m sorry.”

Lexa tried to hide how shock that response made her. She searched Clarke’s eyes, as she listened for the truth in her words. 

Clarke continued, “You did what you had to. I know that. I knew that the moment it happened…I just…” Clarke sighed. She wasn’t quite sure how to describe what happened to her on that battlefield, but she had to try. 

“I was hurt, Lexa. I never felt so isolated until I was thrust into leadership. But after everything we had been through, I started to lean on you, rely on you. It felt like I no longer had to stand-alone. But the moment you left me, that’s what I was…alone. I felt abandoned and something inside of me broke. After what I did to save my people, I wasn’t sure I was ever going to be able to put myself back together. That’s why I’m out here. To heal.”

“And have you?” Lexa asked, even though she was pretty sure she already knew the answer.

Clarke answered as honestly as she could. “I’m not so sure I have.” 

Lexa looked upon the fire’s glow and thought back to the look on Clarke’s face when she realized she was being betrayed. Broken was exactly the word to describe it. More than anything, she wanted to be the glue that helped put back together the pieces of Clarke she had shattered. 

“I’m headed to Polis. Come with me, Clarke.” As soon as she said it, Lexa tilted her chin up and straighten her shoulders as if she were getting ready for Clarke’s rejection. 

Clarke paused and considered what Lexa was saying. _Polis_. Maybe that’s where she needed to be. Being away from everyone at Camp Jaha was essential for her to come to terms with her actions, but she wasn’t sure how much longer she could remain on her own. Solitude allowed her to try and reconnect with who she was and who she was becoming, but her loneliness brought out her demons and she was being eaten alive. 

Clarke moved to sit back down on the log in front of the fire. She bowed her head and started to rub the back of her neck. Lexa decided to sit across from her, leaving the fire as a barrier between them, as she patiently awaited Clarke’s response. 

Clarke lifted her head back up, peering above the flames to look at the dangerously beautiful creature before her. She didn’t know if she was ready to put her trust back in Lexa, but what she did know for sure was she didn’t want to be left again. Lexa was all too familiar. And now that she was tangible, it bothered Clarke to think that so soon she could be gone. Gone like the diminishing fire before her. And once the fire was out all that would be left is the suffocation of the smoke in her lungs. 

“Alright. I’ll go.” 

Lexa started to feel the corner of her lips curl up into a smile, but she quickly sucked in her cheeks to keep the facade of her cool demeanor. She nodded at Clarke to show her approval. 

The two sat for a couple minutes listening to the crackling of the firewood. Their silent presence was enough of a comfort for the both of them. 

“The fire needs more wood,” Lexa said as she got up and reached for the pile of wood lying beside Clarke. 

At the same time, Clarke absent mindedly grabbed for a piece of wood. But instead of the roughen feel of bark she had expected to touch, Clarke brushed the back of Lexa’s hand. It was firm and, yet, surprisingly soft. She quickly jerked her hand back and sensed the heat rush to her cheeks. 

Horrified at first, Lexa believed Clarke to be repulsed by her touch until she saw that fair skin turn red. This time there was no need to keep her demeanor. Lexa smirked and she made sure Clarke could see it. 

Clarke cleared her throat and said the only thing she could think of to deflect the attention off of her embarrassment. “Tell me about Polis.”

Lexa took this conversation starter as an invite to sit next to the blushing blonde. And so she took a seat and told Clarke all that Polis had to offer her. She spoke of the politics and how peace between the 12 clans made Polis an even more diverse destination to travel to. There were open markets where people from the different clans could sell and trade materials and crafts that were particular to the region they came from. Where allies could share secrets of combat and healing. There would be celebrations full of drinking, stories, music and dancing. 

Clarke was fascinated. She tried to imagine the energy of all that was happening in Polis. She observed Lexa as she passionately spoke of this cultured safe haven. Even without the war paint to emphasize her jawline, the curve of her jaw was prominent and strong. But this didn’t make the tough Commander look too masculine; because when Clarke let her eyes follow that curve down Lexa’s neck she noticed how long and delicate it was. She had a strong desire to trace her finger along Lexa’s jaw down to her collarbone.

Clarke started to feel a rush of heat again, but this time it wasn’t to her cheeks. She tried to focus again on what Lexa was telling her.

“Everyone wants to meet the One from the Sky who single handily brought down the Mountain. The clans whisper stories about your strength and bravery.“ 

Clarke couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Bravery? I massacred countless of innocent lives!” 

“And that was on the fault of their leader, Clarke. He would not budge. And to save your people you could not budge either.” 

Lexa sighed as she tried to find the words to ease Clarke’s suffering. “As leaders, we have to live with the tough decisions made for the survival of our people. And despite the pain endured, we hope that our people are able to move on, knowing it is their leader who will shoulder the weight of the decisions made.”

“And what about us?” Clarke asked before realizing that she wished she had chosen her words more wisely. But the response she got was inadvertently just what she needed to hear. 

“We try to move on, too.” 

Lexa stood up and looked down at Clarke. She didn’t want to leave her alone, but she knew it would be better to part now for the night. 

“My people are camped half a mile from here. I will come and get you at sunrise. It will take us a little over a day to reach Polis.” As she walked away, she turned around and said, “Rest your mind, Clarke, and get some sleep.” 

And as quickly as she appeared, the shadows swallowed Clarke’s dark angel back into the forest.


End file.
